


Roses and Wine

by terma_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-06-01
Updated: 1999-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist
Summary: Basically everything up to Piper Maru/Apocrypha. This is set late season three —Mulder has his truth. Krycek has his arm. Pendrell's still up and about and drooling
Relationships: Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder
Collections: TER/MA





	Roses and Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [TER/MA](https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the TER/MA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile).  
> TER/MA June 1999 Challenge. This month, I am getting so many wonderful new suggestions, I have decided to post two challenges at once. You may respond to either or both (or neither, of course). As usual there is no limit on length or deadline for posting. --- First Challenge—Personal Ad: This challenge is inspired by a converstion with the Toronto Terrors. You guys knew it was coming and didn't do anything to stop me, so if people complain, it is all your fault. The challenge is to write a story in which one or both of the boys write a personal ad (you know—SWF looking for marriage minded man, doesn't mind children and cauliflower fetishes, for possible romance, etc etc) to which the other responds. This is sooo setting you up for a First Time story, but if you can escape that trap somehow, it's fine with me. (I will say First Times are a favorite of mine though).

  
**Roses and Wine  
by Krishaela**

  
Mulder stared at the paper, his face frozen in an expression of utter shock. 

_God. I'm never going to be able to live this down. How could she do this to me?_

He moved the focus of his accusing glare from the page to his partner, who, in spite of the awfulness of the situation, seemed about to burst into laughter. Or, more likely, she seemed about to burst into laughter _because_ of the awfulness of the situation... 

"How could you _do_ this to me, Scully? Everyone's going to know it's me... 'Spooky can't find a date, needs to find a new Mrs. Spooky'... That's what's going to be broadcasted around the office! Argh!" Groaning, Mulder slumped forward onto his desk, his head in his hands. 

"Don't be stupid, Mulder," Scully said, taking a step towards the distraught man, "How could they possibly know it was you? How many 'handsome brunets' do you think there are in the world? Anyway, I specifically recall you saying..." Scully cleared her throat, and tried to make her voice deeper, "... 'Oh Scully, whatever shall I do? If Pendrell's asked _you_ to go with him to the dinner, then who shall _I_ take?'" 

Mulder had to smile at Scully's impression of him. "I don't think it came out quite like that, Scully. It was more like 'Damn. What am I supposed to do? I have to find a date in three weeks!', and then you said..." 

"Leave it with me." 

"...Yes. I knew I couldn't trust you with anything with that smile." 

"What smile?" Scully looked at him quizically, grinning at his agonized expression. 

" _That_ smile," Mulder said, pointing an accusing finger at her, "You always smile like that when you're up to something. I should have known!" 

He continued waving his finger at her as he walked around the desk and out of his office, taking the offending paper with him. He glanced suspicously at people that walked past him in the hallway, expecting them to look at him, and burst out laughing... but they seemed none the wiser. Mulder strode quickly down the halls, letting his anger carry him wherever it pleased. He gradually began to slow down, his mind clearing as his speed decreased, and suddenly realised he didn't have anywhere to go. Swerving suddenly to the left, he entered the men's toilets. 

Brightly lit, the white light shining off wash-basins all added to the effect of sterile impersonality, the sole purpose of which to keep the employees blinded and unhappy and unwilling to stay in the refuge of the toilets for more than necessary. 

Deserted. 

Mulder ducked down, peering under the stall doors before entering one himself. Alone. Perfect. He locked the door, sat on the seat and sulked for a few minutes before checking the ad again. He hadn't read it properly last time, in his anger, and now forced himself to read it again with a more critical eye; trying to work if it was so blantantly obvious only to him who the ad was referring to. 

'MAN, tall, handsome brunet..' 

_That speaks for itself. Handsome?_ Mulder's eyebrows twitched, and he smiled in spite of himself. _Scully thinks I'm 'handsome'? Well. That'll put people off track..._

'... 33 yo....' 

_She could at least lie a bit..._

'... charming and clever personality...' 

_Another diversion. No-one else has worked with me as closely as Scully. No-one else would know._

'..seeks woman, approx. same age. Ph. (202) 555-2355' 

Mulder tried to convince himelf that no-one would recognise him, although he still had a niggling feeling at the back of his mind that he'd missed something vital, not taken something into account. When he had calmed down, he swung open the stall door with a bang, and glanced at himself in the mirror on the way out. 

_Handsome_? 

At least Scully had been thoughtful enough to submit only his home phone number, so he could let his answering machine do all the talking, and not have to face the applicants themselves. 

_I don't need to reply to any of them. I can just pick the promising ones._ Mulder thought hopefully, but still shot a blistering glare in Scully's direction as he passed by Skinner's office. She looked up in time to catch his scowl, and motioned for him to come inside. She had been called in for a meeting. But Mulder ignored her, and strode off purposefully back to his office. 

It was lunch-time. He was taking a lunch break. 

* * *

It was early evening when Mulder finally stumbled through his apartment door. He smiled fondly, yet tiredly at the rooms inside. Customized to his liking, as they were, at the moment he hardly got a chance to see them in full daylight, leaving early in the morning and arriving late at night— they were either dark or artificially lit. His missed them. Mulder pined for the week-end, the end to this sweaty week of Summer heat and clearing up the dead-end cases.

The sun's last red rays beamed through the slits in the half drawn blinds, creating a bar-like pattern ranging over Mulder's carpet and coffee table. 

_Caged._

Mulder had been prowling around his basement all day, feeling ridiculously like a prisoner in his own office, and now he was just begining to unwind. He swung his arms, trying to relax the tensed muscles, then, pressing the button on his answering machine, collapsed on his couch. 

"Hi," a hesistant female voice said, "I'm Sandra, and... um... I'm 31: black hair, brown eyes, and I work in a fashion shop on 43rd Street. I interested in astrology and music..." She said, quickly gaining more confidence, ".. and love to party! I'd really like to get to know you sometime... ring me on 555-6729" 

Mulder made a mental note of her, and listened to a few less interesting applicants, before retreating to the kitchen to inspect the contents of his fridge, leaving the answering machine running. 

"Oooh honey baby..." a deep voice breathed into the phone. Mulder shot out of the kitchen. "You know I'd just _love_ to meet you, darling. I'm tall, blonde, and..." The voice broke off with a laugh. "... Hey, Fro! If you don't stop fondling that frying pan, I'm going to fondle it right up your ass, Do-Hickey. You realise we have to eat off that! No... No, now... now that's just gross... That's disgusting, Hick. Byers! Control this maniac friend of ours before he hurts himself. Or our kitchen utensils!" 

Mulder chuckled. The jokers. He knew he could count on them to be the first to know about this newspaper business, they regularly scanned the papers and the classified ads for anything that could have a link to one of their new conspiracy theories. He had expected, no, _looked forward to_ the friendly jostling this would cause the next time they managed to get together. Maybe he'd give them a call later. Langly returned to the phone, effectively ending Mulder's reverie. 

"Uh... Mulder... Yeah, we saw your ad in the paper—recognised you immediately, of course, you handsome, charming brunet! Do we have Miss Scully to thank for that? We expect details on Saturday! Good luck with your date hunting!" Langly seemed about to put down the phone, before adding, "Um... You know the standard procedures... this tape will self-destruct in ten seconds, blahblah.. See you." 

Mulder stopped the tape, deciding to save the rest for tomorrow. Then reaching for the phone, he dialed the nearest Chinese restaurant. He was seriously considering donating the contents of his fridge for scientific research, where someone could write a thesis on the growth of civilizations of bacteria on pieces of bread and fermenting orange juice. He changed into jeans and a t-shirt, and he was just settling down to watch some TV when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

_That was quick._

He opened the door to a tall, slim figure, leaning casually against the door-frame, one hand shoved in the pocket of a pair of tight, black jeans and the other holding a bunch of red roses. Mulder gaped. 

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" 

Krycek leered at him. "Oops. Must've got the wrong address. I saw an ad in the paper, and thought I'd come and check it out." 

Mulder groaned, and rubbed his hand over his forehead. He felt a head-ache coming on. He was also resisting the temptation to hit the man over the head with the bunch of roses. Or, even better, the door. 

"You know, Krycek, there was one requirement specified in the ad, and you've failed on it." 

Krycek kept on grinning in the same disconcerting manner. He was silent for some time. 

"And what might that have been?" He said finally. 

"You're not a woman." 

"Yeah, well. You get what you take." 

This time Mulder was silent, considering Krycek's absurd statement. 

"So, are you going to invite me in or what?" 

"Like hell I am." 

"Some way to treat a guest. Look, I even brought wine!" A dark bottle of red wine appeared, as if from nowhere, in Krycek's other hand. 

"Give me one good reason not to kill you right now." Mulder fumed. 

"You'll be charged with manslaughter." 

"I'll arrest you." 

"For what? Assulting you with roses and wine?" Mulder knew Krycek was right, he didn't have one piece of evidence, against the guy. He had kept the cigarette butts, but what could that prove? Either that he had lied about his smoking habits when he joined the FBI, or that someone else really enjoyed Morleys. Krycek laughed, his green eyes dancing. He shut them for a split second, and Mulder shut the door before he could open them again. 

There was silence outside for a few minutes, and Mulder began to think that Krycek had gone. But then he heard voices, and the sound of footsteps going away. 

"Hey, Mulder?" Krycek's voice sounded muffled through the door. Mulder could hear him pounding on it. "Mulder? Did you want your dinner or not?" 

Mulder sighed heavily and walked wearily to the door. 

"This is certainly verging on harrassment, Krycek." He said as he opened it. 

"Harrassment? I bought dinner for you! I insist, my treat." Krycek shoved the cartons of Chinese into Mulder's hands, and, while Mulder struggled to keep from dropping them, took advantage of the moment. He entered the apartment and shut the door in one smooth moment which was so quick that Mulder had barely opened his mouth to protest before Krycek had disappeared again, this time, into the kitchen. 

He reappeared again after Mulder had managed to deposit the cartons on the table, carrying two plates and some cutlery. Mulder glared suspiciously at the mass of cartons, then questiongly at the lean figure approaching him with an innocent grin on his face. Suddenly Mulder unexplicably felt his mouth go dry, and struggled to swallow as he watched with slight admiration the fluid grace with which Krycek moved across the room... unselfconsiously brushing a long piece of dark hair off his face with his empty hand. It was longer—much longer, in fact, Mulder noticed, than when he had last seen him. 

He remembered the last time he had been with him... that is, _really_ been with him, before the alien... all too well. The long, heaving body, pressed against his... so utterly _alive_. So truly _him_... and then, later, on the plane, in the car, he realised now what he should have realised then— the incompassing _coldness_ of the alien in Krycek. It was so obvious, now, looking back, he would have to ask... 

Mulder started as the object of his ponderings turned and focused a green gaze on him. He could almost hear the half-thought question pass through Krycek's mind as the eyes narrowed, brows furrowing slightly. Mulder quickly shifted his eyes to the table, studying with feigned interest the grease sweating cardboard cartons, mentally changing the subject. 

_I don't think I ordered that much._

"Krycek, have you been bugging my phone?" 

Krycek put down the plates. 

"Nah," he replied, "would I do a thing like that?" He grinned winningly at Mulder, and put the bottle of wine on the table, next to the roses, which had been placed in a vase. 

Mulder sighed. _Yes, he would. And he probably has._ With some relief, Mulder almost welcomed the arrival of the familiar waves of anger and hate as they washed over him. _How _dare_ he barge his way into my apartment, especially when he knows I am at my weakest, after a week at the office! _ Krycek sensed his mood and warily took a step backwards. 

"You never answered my question before," Mulder said, his voice dangerously low, "what the are you doing here, Krycek? Just what the _hell_ are you doing, popping up at my apartment door, food, flowers and wine, no less!" His voiced had risen, so that by the time he had finished talking, he was almost shouting. Krycek said nothing, retreating backwards against the wall. 

_God. Not again. I thought it could be different this time._ Krycek thought. _How am I supposed to explain_ that _to you? You think I'm just taking the piss out of you._

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here, Krycek?!" Mulder repeated, pinning Krycek to the wall, their bodies pressed against each other. Krycek wriggled, trying to ignore the hot tingling Mulder was causing through his body. He couldn't help it. Krycek groaned out loud, overwhelmed by the sensation of Mulder's beautiful body against his, then quickly shut his mouth. Mulder seemed to be his usual, oblivious self, caught up mentally in whatever turmoil was raging through his mind. He didn't appear to notice the effect he was having on Krycek. Mulder whipped a gun out of nowhere and pressed it against the side of Krycek's face. 

"If you don't answer me in the next ten seconds then I'm going to blow the side of your pretty little face off." 

Krycek smirked slightly. _Pretty little face, eh?_ Wrong move. Mulder frowned, and drove his fist, forcefully, into his stomach. Krycek collapsed, this time groaning for an altogether different reason, on the carpet. He grimaced as Mulder cocked the gun, the nozzle digging painfully into his skin. 

"Alright. I came here with that stuff as a peace offering, okay?" Krycek gasped, and lifted his arms up with slow, exaggerated movements, edging Mulder's gun hand away from his face. "I'm not talking till you put that away." Mulder nodded and placed the gun on the desk, non-threateningly, but still within reaching distance if he tried anything, Krycek noticed. He picked himself up, wincing tightly at the pain in his stomach as blood rushed down his mid-section. 

"I saw the ad and it was too much to resist. I had been planning to come here, and that ad was just the incentive I needed." 

"How'd you know it was me?" 

"The phone number, Sherlock..." Krycek broke off, finding himself staring deeply into Mulder's eyes. The pupils were a slightly dilated, in the dim light, though Krycek could still see the golden-brown rings lining the hazel green. His eyes followed the straight line of the nose to the lips, and had a brief flash of a fantasy of kissing that _gorgeous_ lower lip, hard, until it was red. Krycek suddenly realised what he was doing and was about to tear away his eyes before Mulder punched him, when he realised that Mulder was gazing at him in much the same way. 

Mulder fleetingly felt a soft breath brush his lips, before Krycek was there, kissing him furiously. The soft, yet insistant pressure of his lips sent Mulder's mind into a frenzy. Krycek felt Mulder stiffen in surprise, before melting into the kiss... Krycek almost sighed into Mulder's mouth. He had been waiting for this moment so long—the feel of Mulder's lips against his, the smell of the man... He didn't stop to consider what Mulder would do to him, when he finally put together the questionable amount of sanity he had left, and realised what Krycek was doing. He didn't _want_ to stop, ever; one, because, fuck, he was enjoying it; and two, because he knew it would give Mulder the only chance he needed to grab his gun and put a bullet in his head. Still, he expected the blows to begin to fall any second... 

Mulder was in shock. While Krycek worked his mouth furiously, Mulder's brain did the same. He couldn't quite work out what had happened—and his mind kept on going back to what had happened a few minutes before to see how things had changed so quickly... One second he was interrogating Krycek, the next they were pressed up against the wall.. _kissing_. Even going further back, things still didn't make sense. He arrived home. Ordered Chinese. Got Krycek delivered to his doorstep. Chinese delivered. Krycek for dinner... literally... fuck. He knew he had been attracted to the young agent, from the second he and his bad suit had walked through the door.. but after everything that had gone on between them, he had doubted that anything would come of it. Fuck, he had doubted that Krycek was even still alive... Yet here he was, very much alive, and still turning Mulder's world upside down. 

Mulder came back to reality, noticing that sometime in the last few seconds Krycek had flipped them round, pressing Mulder's back into the wall. Never relenting pressure on his lips, Krycek's hands found his, fingers intwining, as Krycek brought them above his head. For a split second they were gone, then they were back again, moving with a mind of their own around his waistband, untucking his t-shirt, and roving underneath it, rubbing up his chest, tickling already hard nipples harder as they passed. Mulder felt his shirt being lifted, and Krycek's mouth was gone... the cool air on his stomach being quickly replaced with Krycek's lips, kissing higher, lifting the shirt higher as he went. Mulder felt his head clearing, after the onslaught of his lips was gone. He cleared his throat. 

"Krycek..." 

"Alex." 

"What?" 

"Call me Alex," he insisted. Mulder couldn't refuse, with Alex's tongue continually whirling around his belly button. 

"I don't think..." 

"Then don't." Mulder stared at the man below him, bewildered. 

"Your mind," clarified Alex, punctuating his words with kisses, "gets in the way of your body. You know what you want." 

"What I want is..." Mulder trailed off, his mind malfunctioning again. What did he want? He was going to say that what he wanted was for Kry.. Alex to get out of his apartment, out of his life... but he also felt he didn't ever, _ever_ want him to leave again. He hated him, yet knew he couldn't live without him. 

Alex stood up again, pulling off Mulder's shirt with him, before returning to Mulder's half-reluctant kisses. 

"Tell you what," he said kissing, the side of Mulder's pouting mouth gently, "you tell that fantastic mind of yours to stop panicking, and I'll look after this," he reached down, gently rubbing the half-erect cock through his jeans. Krycek felt the cock jump at his touch, and smiled as Mulder gasped. "Just let your mind go and you can catch up with it later. I promise you you can beat the crap out of me afterwards, if you still feel like it." 

"I'm not gay..." 

"You're not?" 

"... And I'm not..." 

"Bi either, no. And I'm not Krycek, and you're not Mulder. You see?" Krycek broke off his relentless kissing, to gaze deeply into Mulder's eyes. Mulder had to understand he was serious. "That mind of yours is protesting again. They're just names. Names for things... you'll know if this is right... this _feels_ right... to you." 

Mulder stared into Alex's eyes, which were shining green, glittering in the glow from the street lights outside. For once, he felt he could believe what Alex was saying, he knew that here, now, it was all real. This was real. And Alex _was_ right. Alex waited for a sign. Mulder inclined his head slightly, an uncertain nod. Alex locked fingers with him again, and squeezed reassuringly, dragging him across the room, and taking off his leather jacket on the way. They almost didn't make it to the bed, collapsing on the edge, tangled in each other's arms. 

"You've never done this before, have you?" Alex stroked Mulder's cheek with his thumb, feeling the where the coarse stubble had formed. Mulder shook his head. "No matter, plenty of time. What would you like?" 

"I don't know," Mulder realised now exactly how ignorant he was in the ways of the world... 

"Don't worry, I'll take it slow," a rumbling chuckle vibrated against Mulder's neck, warm lips moving downwards, retreating back along the path they had travelled earlier. This time, however, they didn't stop at the navel. Alex fumbled with Mulder's belt, helping Mulder remove his jeans and boxers. He grinned with appreciation at the hard cock, and, bending down, flicked his tongue teasingly along the weeping slit. Mulder groaned, his pupils dilating until all that only a thin ring of golden brown could be seen. He watched, breathless, as Alex whipped his tongue along the sensitive skin, tracing it around Mulder's balls, kissing the base of the shaft until Mulder wriggled impatiently. 

"Alex!" 

Alex grinned cheekily at Mulder as he swallowed his cock whole, still working his tongue around it inside his mouth. Dark eyes glanced up to meet Mulder's, then the brown-haired head lowered again, Alex raking his teeth lightly along the sensitive parts. Mulder moaned and thrust into Alex's mouth, half expecting him to gag, but Alex took him deep into his throat, still moving his lips as Mulder thrust harder and faster. 

"God, Alex!!!" 

With a half-muffled yell, Mulder came in Alex's mouth, grabbing the younger man's head with his hands as he felt himself surge into the warmth of his throat. Alex swallowed a large amount, then came up to meet Mulder's mouth again, kissing him slowly, indulgently, letting him taste the salty bitterness left on his lips. Krycek sat up and let himself rake his eyes over Mulder, memorizing every part of him, the way his dark chocolate hair fell into his eyes, the way he was sprawled wantonly, and content, over the bed. 

"God, you're beautiful." He breathed. 

Mulder smiled, exhausted. He let his eyes drift shut, longing for sleep, and he heard Alex sigh, and lie down next to him. He opened his eyes a crack and sneaked a glance at his lover. 

_And he says _I'm_ beautiful. Now, _he's_ the real creature of beauty in this room._

Mulder could trace the lines of his bunched muscles through his dark t-shirt, curled up as Alex was between the tangled sheets. Alex was still almost fully dressed, and he could see through his jeans that he was sporting a raging hard-on. Mulder knew what self-control it must have taken him to just let him sleep. 

He considered his own state of undress, and then Alex's. Mulder decided it wasn't quite even. He pounced on the younger man, with a new burst of energy, surprising both of them. He pulled off the sweater and tight t-shirt, ravaging his hands over the golden skin and firm muscles. 

"Mulder!... I thought you were sleeping." 

"No. How could you think I would leave you in that state, poor baby." Mulder purred in his ear. Alex smiled, his eyes lighting up. This was better than any fantasy he had ever had. "I want you to fuck me," Mulder continued, a little uncertainly. 

"Are you sure?" Alex was shocked. He had never expected Fox Mulder to _offer_ himself to him, just like that. Mulder nodded, swallowing. 

Alex was off the bed in a flash, almost stumbling in his haste to find his jacket. He could hardly remember where he had dropped it in the hurry to get Mulder to bed. He returned, holding a pack of condoms and a small bottle of lube. 

"Where did you get those from?" 

"My jacket." 

"All prepared, aren't we? Were you expecting this?" 

Alex kissed Mulder tenderly on the lips. "I could _never_ have expected this, not in my darkest fantasies..." He whispered into Mulder's ear, "...I had hoped though." He pressed the packets into Mulder's hands. Mulder's eyes widened, eying the waste-band of Krycek's jeans. "Don't worry," he said, seeing Mulder's concern, "it's alright. Do only what you feel is right." 

Mulder edged closer, placing a kiss on Alex's navel on the way to the top button his jeans. He slowly undid it, pulling the fly, then the jeans, and boxers down with it. He stared unabashedly at Alex's throbbing erection, slowly rolling the condom onto it with hesistant fingers. Then, he squeezed a blob of cool jelly onto his fingers, applying it gently on top of the rubber. Krycek groaned, feeling himself grow harder under Mulder's soft caresses. 

_My Fox, you have _no_ idea what effect you have on me, do you?_

"Okay, Fox, lie on your stomach," Alex managed to gasp out. Mulder complied immediately, "Now, this is how I prep you.." Alex retrieved the tube from Mulder, and spread a generous amount on his fingers. He slowly entered one into the tight ring of muscles, feeling them tense, before Mulder made a deliberate attempt to relax. Soon another one joined the first, Mulder gasping as Alex purposely let one rake along against his prostate. After the third one, Mulder felt himself growing hard again. Then the fingers were gone. Mulder growled impatiently, but fell silent as he felt Alex's cock pressing against the opening. 

"You ready?" 

"Uh, yes." 

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Alex asked again, though in truth, he couldn't have handled it if Mulder had declined, "I mean.. you could, uh... wait for another..." 

"Alex," Mulder said, twisting his head to look him in the eyes, "there may not be another time. Yes, dammit, do it! Yes!" He repeated, seeing the look of hesistancy in the other's eyes. 

Krycek gave Mulder no second chances, he could feel the older man's indecision and knew if he left it too long then Mulder would almost certainly back out. And miss out on all the fun. He slowly bore down on the opening, rocking himself deeper gently, easing himself into the hot tightness. 

Mulder shut his eyes, the sensation was incredible, although admittedly the pain of the large cock inside him was excrutiating... he soon found the pain to only heighten the experience, making it all the more real and sent his mind into fits of ecstasy. He began to thrust backwards, in time to Alex's thrusts, impaling himself backwards onto him. Alex picked up the pace, panting, driving recklessly into Mulder. 

"Mulder... Fuck! Mulder!!! I... I'm... " 

He was so tight.. so hot and so tight... It was impossible, he couldn't last. He came into Mulder, screaming his name, and Mulder shuddered seconds later with a second, though no less spectacular orgasm. Alex collapsed on top of Mulder, both a sticky mess of sweat and semen, falling asleep within a few minutes. 

Later, exhausted, they lay wrapped in each other's arms. Alex was still asleep, dead to the world, though Mulder was still awake. Contemplating. As Alex had said, his 'mind had caught up with him', and he was worrying over what had happened. 

_What have I got himself into??_

Mulder took just one glance at the dark head nuzzled against his shoulder, and knew that, although he couldn't believe it, he had found what he had been searching for. 

The ad had worked, but he had no idea how he was going to get Scully to lend Alex a dress to wear to the dinner. 

The End? 

* * *

RATING: NC17 bit of language, m/m sex.   
SPOILERS: Basically everything up to Piper Maru/Apocrypha. This is set late season three —Mulder has his truth. Krycek has his arm. Pendrell's still up and about and drooling.   
DISCLAIMER: Yeah, yeah, I admit it. They don't belong to me (unfortunately). They belong CC & Co. and Fox Studios and whoever else decides to lay a claim on them.   
NOTES: This is for the June Challenge (no, not Alexian Nights, the other one. What other one? I hear you say...) This is just a lite story—a stand-alone. This is also my first (posted) story —comments and constructive criticism appreciated. Send to:   
FEEDBACK: Yes! Please! E-mail me at: [email removed]   
THANKS: To everyone at Ter/ma, and Trinity, a great beta if there ever was one. =)   
---


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